


Caught in Your Web

by bittybae (piscespride)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, READ NOTES, spideyhulk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 19:31:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4150077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piscespride/pseuds/bittybae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter Parker has had the worst day in existence. He woke up late, lost his camera somewhere in the house, got his hand shut in a door (thankfully it wasn’t his fingers, but it still hurts), and Bruce was out of state for some conference to discuss the developments in Bioradiation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Or, Peter had a shitty day and he just really wants Bruce to be home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caught in Your Web

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Badgers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Badgers/gifts).



> First off, I would like to point out that this fic is my first for a lot of things. First posted work, first time writing for Marvel characters, first time writing anything NSFW. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Secondly, these characters are probably not going to be in character. I'm not really into the Marvel fandom.
> 
> This fic is for my friend, Badgers. She asked for a spideyhulk fic as a joke, and I decided to give it to her. This took me six months to write, so I hope you and she enjoys it.

****

Peter Parker has had the worst day in existence. He woke up late, lost his camera somewhere in the house, got his hand shut in a door (thankfully it wasn’t his fingers, but it still hurts), and Bruce was out of state for some conference to discuss the developments in Bioradiation. The conference is supposed to last an entire week, and he’s so glad it’s Friday because that means he only has to wait two more days before Bruce comes home, and then they can spend Peter’s time off in bed. Peter wasn’t exactly sure of what the conference was for, he’d been busy fixing his web launcher at the time so he didn't even look at Bruce when he was talking. Peter regretted that, as he walked home from work with a still sore hand and a heavy feeling in his chest that he associates with missing Bruce. The walk home was spent in silence, mind blank as he stared at the cracked sidewalks under his feet, which led him to the small, cozy home Bruce had bought for them

It was a plain one bedroom, one bath home and Peter loved every inch of it. There was a small porch at the front, where Bruce drank his morning coffee and read the newspaper. That porch has seen some late night escapades between the two men. What Peter loved most about the house was the inside. There was a comfortable sized living room, filled with just a soft couch, a coffee table and a TV. The kitchen was perfect for the couple, with a large fridge, stove and farm sink taking most of the space. A table sat at the edge of the kitchen, perfect amount of space for the two. But he couldn’t forget about the area they loved the most, the bedroom. It’s what took up most of the space in this home, and neither had a problem with that. With a large, comfortable bed and a nice walk in closet for Bruce, most of their time was spent there. Beautiful arched windows let in light, and gave a gorgeous view to the backyard. An open doorway led to the bathroom, filled with another farm sink, and a clawfoot tub/shower that was perfect to pair with a good book and wine.

As Peter made his way to the front door he pulled his keys out with a sigh, ready to spend another night alone in bed. Walking into the small hallway he hung his jacket up and kicked his shoes off into the tray set aside for them. The blinds were drawn shut against the evening sun and the door to their bedroom was wide open, practically calling him to it, but he held out for a little bit longer. He should eat something, and then he can get a bath and spend the night getting off. Making his way into the kitchen he opened the fridge and frowned. It was pretty bare, filled only with a half gallon of milk and some leftover spaghetti from last night. With no other option Peter reheated his food and snagged a fork from the drawer, walking to the bedroom and into their en-suit. He smiled at the large tub and turned the H knob to it’s highest point and settled down on the toilet seat as he finished his food while he waited.

It didn’t take long and soon he was turning the water off and leaving his bowl and fork on the sink to get when he was done with his bath. The first step in the water burned, but Peter lowered himself into it slowly. He breathed out deep and kept on until he was submerged up to his shoulders. His skin went pink from the heat but it felt so nice on his tired body. He relaxed for a few minutes before washing himself, breathing in the fruity scent of the soap. It felt as though he was washing off the days’ negativity from himself. He didn’t stay in much longer, draining the tub and drying off. He brushed his teeth, staring at his reflection in the mirror as he did so. Spitting the minty foam out he rinsed his mouth, grabbed the dishes and flicked the lights off in his departure, stretching as he walked down the hall. The bowl and fork went into the dishwasher, as well as some cups and plates from this morning. He closed the door and headed off to bed eagerly.

The bedroom was warm, and Peter shivered as goosebumps rose onto his skin in anticipation. It felt weird to be in here without Bruce on the bed, flipping through books and articles and taking notes, or just relaxing with his favorite book. Peter sighed and crawled onto the bed, reaching for his nightstand and tugging out his toy box. It was filled with all the latest toys, lubes and plugs. Peter usually liked to start out small, work his way up to his favorite- a molded dildo of Bruce’s dick, but he didn’t feel like waiting tonight. Right now he felt like going straight to the custom made dildo and fuck himself into sleep.

It was odd to be doing this when Bruce wasn’t here. It’s different when he’s just spending an extra hour or two at work, because he’ll always be home before morning comes. But now he’s miles away from their home and he won’t shuffle his way into their room and see Peter passed out, toys shoved messily onto the side table and asleep on the sheets, shivering in the night air. It felt odd but Peter couldn’t bring himself to wait anymore, he was upset and just really needed to get off. He grabbed Big Bruce and his favorite lube and placed his toys on the nightstand. Big Bruce, obviously the molded dildo, was Peter’s favorite out of his collection and not because it was his boyfriend’s dick. There was a thick vein along the bottom, and the shaft itself was a comfortable weight as it rested in Peter's palm and fingers, his hand molding naturally to its size. There weren’t any balls on it, no point to it since it wouldn’t be the same as Bruce’s slapping along his skin, which was one of Peter’s favorite parts about blowing Bruce. He could see them clearly in his mind, heavy and dark pink. They'd be sweaty and salty and Peter’s mouth is watering just thinking about them.

He blushed at the memory of the day Bruce left, sending him off with a blow job against the door and the feeling of his balls slapping against his chin. A shudder runs up his spine and he lays on his stomach, twisting so from the hips down he’s on his side. He slicked his fingers, only rubbing his hole for now. He took his time, pressing down for a few minutes and taking pleasure in the feeling, like Bruce does. The tip of his finger pushed in, working slowly to stave off the burn. He crooked his finger and shivered as he felt himself being stretched. It felt like forever until he pulled it out and slicked up two fingers, carefully sliding them in. The burn came easier this time, and he grunted at the pain. He backed off until he got to the tip of his fingers, this time taking it slowly again and working his fingers apart, scissoring them. It took some time but finally he was in to the knuckle and moving them apart easily. He slicked his three fingers up and shoved two back in and letting the third nudge at his hole. He buried his face into Bruce's pillow, almost as if he could smell his faded scent if he tried hard enough.

Slipping the last one in, Peter moaned and pushed his head harder into it. He breathed heavily, getting used to the burn before moving again. He sat on his front and lifts his leg up, sinking his fingers in. "Fuck…" he groaned, grinding into the bed sheets. It felt too hot in the room, sweat beaded on his brow and some dripping from his chest.

With the new position, Peter was able to hit his prostate easier and he wasted no time in doing so. It was easy to lose himself in the pleasure and block out everything else. He slipped his fingers out and lubed up the toy, sliding it in slowly. He lifted himself on his knees and held his weight on them and his shoulders, one hand wrapped right around his dick and the other thrusting the toy. The head of the dildo was wide, catching on his rim with every pull and Peter shuddered at the tingling of pleasure that shot up his spine. Peter adjusted his position, knees pulled up closer to his chest and moaned as the dildo ran over his prostate. He could imagine Bruce when he got back, settling in behind him, rubbing his back as he fucks into Peter, holding him down with a hand to the back of his neck. Or maybe Bruce would lay back against the pillow, relaxed and enjoying himself as Peter rode him, hands planted on his chest as he took what he wanted from Bruce. Yeah, he could just picture it, the bruising grip Bruce would have on his hips, planting his feet and thrusting into Peter as he sat on top of him. He could hear the filthy things that Bruce would say, about how he’d fuck Peter’s tight little hole loose with his cock, how he’d fuck him so good he wouldn’t want anyone else. Peter hurried his strokes, breath hitching as he watched it play through his mind. Bruce would reach around Peter and let him suck on his fingers so he could have something in his mouth, even though Bruce hated the feeling of drying spit. Peter rocked back onto the dildo, whining low in his throat and wishing his boyfriend was here.

Peter felt like he was going to lose it soon, and he tried to stop it but failed. He had waited to do anything until Bruce got back, but that was two days away and he couldn’t take it anymore. Peter dropped and rolled onto his back, feet planted on the bed and legs spread out. He fucked himself with the dildo and jerked off at the same time, whining and moaning as this knot in his stomach grew tighter until he finally blew, back arching as he writhed on the bed, calling for his boyfriend, “Bruce! Oh, fuck.” He collapsed back on the bed, feeling the come dry in the patch of hair under his belly button. He stared up at the ceiling with heavy eyes before moving into the bathroom, wiping himself off with a warm towel and sliding on his favorite pair of boxers before getting back in bed, wrapping the dildo in the towel and shoving it in the box on the nightstand.

Going to sleep by himself was hard. Peter had gotten used to Bruce’s arms wrapped tight around him as he slept, so tight he’d often have to pry Bruce’s arm off of him just so he could go to the bathroom. But with getting off and the events from earlier, he fell into a dreamless sleep easily.

A sleep that was interrupted only hours after he’d gotten in bed. He blinked himself awake, sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes as he listened to someone drop their bags in the hallway on their way to the bedroom. Peter grinned, throwing the blankets back and running to Bruce, tackling him into a wall. He didn’t give his boyfriend any time to talk, already sliding his tongue into Bruce’s mouth, moaning at his taste. He wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, grinning into the kiss as he felt Bruce slid his calloused hands down Peter’s shirtless back and over his ass, lifting him up. Peter locked his legs around Bruce’s waist, pulling away from the kiss and eyeing the thin string of spit connected to their kiss-swollen lips. “You’re early! Why are you early?”

****  
  


Bruce smiled small at his younger lover, fixing his glasses that were knocked askew by Peter in his eagerness to greet him. He cleared his throat before speaking, rubbing his thumb against Peter’s hip. “They moved my speech up a few days and then cancelled some lectures, figured I’d book an early flight instead of waiting around down in New York.” His voice was weak with sleep, but his arms were strong and he carried Peter to their bed effortlessly, setting him down and climbing over him. Bruce slid his hand into Peter’s hair, leaning down to press his lips to Peter’s throat to lay a soft kiss against the skin. It felt sticky, and Bruce could smell the faint sweat on his skin. Bruce slid his hands down Peter’s sides, rubbing at the smooth skin he found. Bruce missed this, just enjoying the silence in bed. He shuffled backwards kissing a line down Peter’s chest, pausing to bite at his nipples. He doesn’t know how he went so long without his boyfriend by his side.

Bruce decided he couldn’t wait any longer, tugging down Peter’s boxers and sliding off the bed to undress himself. He grabbed a bottle of lube off the nightstand, raising a brow at the sight of Big Bruce and climbed back on, reaching out to spread Peter’s legs open and settle in between them. He didn’t use the lube just yet, sliding his fingers around Peter’s rim, pressing the tip of his finger in to test how well Peter was stretched. It slipped in easily, and Bruce slid his finger out and poured lube over two of them, pressing back against Peter’s hole. He rubbed the rim, circled around it and teased him before he wiggled them in, carefully stretching Peter out by scissoring his fingers, curling them and spreading them. Bruce loved the noises Peter made, loved how much they affected him. Bruce let a third finger tease Peter’s hole, sliding in alongside the other two and curling them against Peter’s prostate. He smiled at the whine the younger man let out, repeating the action again and again until Peter was a writhing mess on the bed, chanting Bruce’s name like it was a prayer, bucking his hips this way and that to try and get him in deeper.

Bruce pulled his fingers out and dug around the nightstand with his clean hand, pulling a condom out and ripping it open with his teeth. He slid it on with some help from Peter, who turned once he heard the crinkling of the wrapper and practically tore it from his fingers, jerking him off a few times just because he could. Peter rolled the condom onto Bruce’s length, both men moaning. Peter moaned from the anticipation, just thinking about how he’ll finally get Bruce in him again nearly causing him to blow his load right there. Bruce moaned because, well, Peter was touching him. He shoved Peter, noting with a smirk how easily Peter went down for him. Bruce shuffled up close behind him, hands massaging the pert pale cheeks. He spread them, taking in the sight of Peter’s clenching hole. Bruce moaned softly, positioning himself behind Peter and guiding his cock inside. Peter was tight, and Bruce worried he wouldn’t last long. He assumed the same for Peter, when he noticed the younger man attempting to rub off against the bed sheets, pillow clenched in his hand.

Bruce took a few moments to breathe, thumb rubbing on Peter’s hip, skin soft and sweaty. He waited for Peter to give him the all clear, slowly pulling out before thrusting back in. “Jesus, Peter. How are you always so tight? I could prep you all night, and you’d still feel like you’ve never been fucked.” He murmurs, bending low to speak in his ear. He tugged on Peter’s earlobe, sucking it between his teeth. He took pleasure in the whine Peter gave off, laughing as it was cut short when Bruce thrusted back in. He held Peter down, hand flat between his shoulder blades. He rocked in harshly, not letting Peter recover as he slid relentlessly against his prostate. Peter was reduced to a sobbing mess, fingers clawing at the fabric in an attempt to hold something. Bruce was lost in the sight before him. Peter’s skin was flushed and sweat pooled a little at the dip in his back. His eyes were closed and mouth open, drool escaping from the pink lips. Bruce has never seen a more beautiful sight. He leaned down, adjusting their positions to work with him and he pressed a kiss to the back of his head, ignoring the sweat soaked hair. He could feel Peter’s hand in his hair, tugging and nails digging into his scalp. He’ll be lucky to end the night without any scratches.

Bruce placed a hand next to Peter’s head, letting his weight settle on it as he pulled out of Peter. He ignored the whines, the hands trying to grab at his cock as he turned him over and laid back. Bruce watched as Peter’s eyes widened and he scrambled to move, kneeling over him and reaching behind his back to guide Bruce’s dick inside. He looked so focused, biting his lip and furrowed brows. Bruce lifted a hand to jerk Peter’s dick, watching how he reacted to it. His eyes were glued to Peter, his sex flushed skin and the beads of sweat around his mouth. His hair was pushed back from his face, and when he opened his eyes Bruce could have sworn he stopped breathing. Peter’s eyes were so dark, pupils blown wide and focused on him. Bruce slid a hand around his neck and tugged him down, kissing him heatedly. Tongues slid against each other and teeth bit into lips. Some spit dribbled down his chin, and Bruce pulled away to wipe it off. Peter didn’t mind, Bruce noticed, as he eagerly attached himself to his neck. He hissed when he felt teeth nipping at his neck, Peter marking him with so many bites and hickies that he wouldn’t be able to cover them all, which, thinking about it, was probably on purpose. He huffed, letting Peter have his fun before surprising him, gripping his hips and planting his feet to lift Peter up, thrusting into him the same time Bruce tugged him down. He listened to Peter’s choked gasp, having dropped to his elbows. He jerked him off in time with his thrusts, wincing when Peter dug his nails into his shoulders, rocking against Bruce.

“I’m close, Bruce, I’m so close.” Peter whined into his ear. Bruce was relieved, he could feel the bubbling heat in his stomach growing. He wouldn’t last much longer. Bruce used his free hand to press against Peter’s stretched hole. Combined with being jerked off and Bruce hitting his prostate, Peter was unable to do anything other than cry out weakly as his orgasm rushed through him. Bruce huffed as he flopped on him, attempting to grind his hips for Bruce but he was still shuddering. Bruce didn’t mind, as he was already so close when Peter clenched around him, and Peter’s tiny,  barely there grinds pushed him over the edge. He grunted as he came, head tossed back and unable to keep himself from doing a few short thrusts. He took a few moments to breathe before turning over, hovering above Peter and sliding out. He kissed Peter’s grumbling away, carefully rolling the condom off and tieing it. He threw it in the trashcan next to the bed and lifted Peter up, setting him on his side of the bed and covering him up. Bruce slid in next to him and pulled him into his arms, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“It’s good to be home, baby.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this fic, then please leave a kudos, comment, and maybe even recommend it to a friend.
> 
> If you feel as though I may have made a mistake with the characters personality, then I suggest taking a look at the notes in the beginning of the fic.


End file.
